Real
by ArwenLalaith
Summary: Tag to 'Omnivore'. When the dust settles and things slow down, you begin to wonder if the reality you believed it to be is real or just a figment of your imagination so you could feel better... Co-written with Confetti Leaves.


"This might sting a little," Emily said softly, trying her best to be gentle as she cleaned out the cuts left by the glass.

"Don't sugar-coat it," he grumbled moodily.

"Fine," she said, letting out a measured breath as she tried to be patient with him, "It definitely will hurt. A lot."

She pressed the antiseptic against the wounds and he groaned in pain, cursing thickly. A silence fell between them as she wrapped his arm with gauze, secretly enjoying being the one to take care of him for a change. "Thanks," he said gruffly, pulling away as she finished dressing the wounds.

She sighed, having had enough of his sullen attitude. "You need to just let it go..."

"Let it go?" he snapped, "How can I just let it go! I almost died!"

"But you didn't... You're alive and that's what matters," she reiterated her earlier sentiment.

"You don't get it..."

"Don't get it?" she said exasperatedly, "You don't think I was scared? When we didn't hear from you, I thought you'd died...I've never been more scared in my life. But that doesn't matter because you're still with me. You can't let him get to you..."

"And how am I supposed to do that? Just pretend like it never happened?" He wasn't really angry, certainly not with her, but he was left feeling vulnerable, so he compensated the only way he could.

"Start by dropping the charade," she told him, "This isn't just about him getting the best of you... Stop shutting me out, I want to help you."

"I'm not shutting you out," he sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. "I don't know what to feel and I hate that! It's usually either I'm angry or I'm not, simple as that...but this time, it's different. Whenever I think that he almost got me and I could have lost you forever, there's this whole bunch of feelings inside me that I can't find words for... What is that, Em?"

"Derek," she sighed softly, putting her hands on either side of his head so she could see his eyes. "You didn't lose me."

"I almost did."

"Almost..." she repeated. "You're still here. We're still together, that's all that matters...remember that."

He pulled her to him, holding her tightly against his chest as if afraid that if he let go, this would all be some figment his unconscious mind had created to help him cope. "I wasn't scared for myself when Foyet pushed me though the window, I was scared for you – I thought that was the last of me and I didn't even get to tell you I love you for the last time... And you were gonna have to pick up the pieces... I was so scared I wouldn't be able to keep my promise to always be there for you." He did his best to choke down the swell of emotion rising in his chest, afraid that the dam would break and he wouldn't be able to fix it.

"I promise, I'm right here with you," she murmured, "Always." He didn't say anything, merely holding her tighter. "We're gonna be fine, Derek," she whispered softly, "I love you."

"I love you too. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you."

"It's fine," she shrugged, "I know you didn't mean it." When he opened his mouth to apologize again, she put her finger on his lips and shook her head. "No more apologies. We should sleep; it's late, we had a long day."

"I don't want to sleep."

She was about to ask him how he could possibly not want to sleep when she was ready to pass out, and that wasn't going through half of what he had. Then, looking into his eyes, she caught a faint glint of fear, not that he would ever admit to it. She recognized that fear, having seen it in her own eyes after the ordeal at the Seperatarians' ranch, that fear that she'd wake up to find that she was still held hostage with no hope of getting out. She nodded understandingly, "We don't have to sleep."

"You should go to bed," he insisted, "I'll be fine."

Her expression made it clear that she didn't even begin to believe that. "We both know I have no intention of doing that..."

He sighed, "I know..."

Emily smiled softly and climbed into his lap, kissing him softly. "Remember when Cyrus had me?" She knew he remembered when she saw the anger flash across his eyes. "I know why you don't want to sleep, Derek. I felt the same way after I got out of it. It's okay to be scared. You're only human, you're allowed to have feelings," she whispered softly.

He hugged her tightly, burying his face in her hair, breathing in her comforting scent. "I thought I'd never see you again..." he whispered, "I thought the last time I told you I love you was the last time..."

"It's not," she smiled, feeling a surge of pride that she managed to get him to open up. "You're here now. I'm here. This is real... I'll prove it to you," she murmured before fusing their lips together in a needy kiss.

She couldn't deny that she was more than happy and relieved to show him that it was all over, because frankly, she needed the confirmation herself. She wasn't going to say that she wasn't scared out of her wits when they didn't hear from him.

She also wasn't going to deny that she was afraid that when she woke up in the morning, she'd realize that she had been dreaming all along and it was him in the body bag instead of the detective.

They both needed this...

He wound a hand in her hair, the other keeping her close in a desperate sort of embrace. The warmth of her body close to his, the familiar desire racing through his veins welcome reminders that he was still alive.

She shifted to straddle his lap, splaying her hand over his heart, the constant beating beneath her palm soothing. She lightly kissed the scratches on his cheek as if it would take away his pain.

"I love you," he told her again, needing to reassure himself that he'd taken every chance to say it, just in case.

She smiled to herself as she trailed kisses along his jaw. Every time he told her he loved her, she wanted to grab hold of the moment and keep it close to her heart so that she'd always have that part of him, that feeling, should the unthinkable happen.

That thought caused a little burst of sadness to swell in her chest and she kissed him again, a little more desperately, to reassure herself that he really was alright.

If he sensed that something was wrong, he said nothing, returning the kiss with equal need. He slid his hands under the shirt she wore – she'd asked to borrow one of his, saying it made her feel close to him. The feel of her soft skin anchored him to reality, reminding him that things were okay.

As she kissed and nibbled her way down his body, he noticed that she lingered at his heart, as if listening to his heartbeat. He knew that his run in with Foyet wasn't just traumatic for him. He knew exactly what she had gone through when she realized something bad had happened to him – when she was abused by Cyrus in Colorado, it had taken everything in him to not sacrifice everyone else in the building just to save her.

She smiled against his skin when he gently ran his hands through her hair as she kissed his body, loving the way her name tumbled from his lips. She kissed his chest gently, lavishing him with attention and love; tonight was about making him feel better, easing his pain the only way she could.

She sat back and pulled off her shirt and he quickly pulled her back down to him as if he'd missed having her close, even for the few seconds she wasn't right next to him. For several moments, he just held her, the feel of their two hearts beating together reassuring. There was something in the desperate embrace that said more about his fear than words could have possibly conveyed.

As she sat up again, she took his hand, gently kissing his palm before placing it on her breast, where her heart was. The steady beat and warmth under his palm assured him that this was reality. "You're okay," she murmured, "We're okay, I promise. I'll make it okay."

He sat up, their faces only mere centimetres apart and he whispered determinedly, "I'll get over it, I promise. I'll do it for you."

"Good," she smiled, kissing him gently, "Because I need you to be okay."

When she smiled brightly at his promise, cliché as it might be, he couldn't help but think that she was his only reason for getting it together and moving on.

"I want to make love to you," he whispered, "I want to remember what it feels like to be alive again."

At any other time, she might have laughed and told him to stop being so melodramatic, but tonight she held her tongue because he didn't open up often and when he did, it wasn't something to take lightly. She hummed quietly in response, not really knowing what or how to reply.

It didn't really make a difference whether or not she replied as he trailed kisses down her neck, nipping at her skin, then running his tongue along the marks. He was a little rougher tonight, but it didn't matter; as long as it made the both of them feel better, she didn't care if he left marks on her.

She rocked her hips against his, feeling him press against her wet heat through layers of clothing. Needing to feel all of him, she slid her hands down his perfect abs to the waistband of his boxers, enjoying the way she made him hum in approval when her hands came in contact with his throbbing erection. Tonight wasn't about her, it was about him. It was about making him feel good, assuring him that he was alive and it wasn't just a figment of his imagination.

"Emily..." he breathed, tugging her panties down her legs. She got away from him just long enough to kick her panties off before quickly moving back into his arms.

As they kissed, she ran her hands over his body, loving the warmth of his skin under her palms. When her fingers came in contact with the stitches on his shoulder, the memory of the paramedic pulling glass from his wound came flooding back to her. That memory reminded her how close she came to losing everything that ever meant anything to her. That thought sent a surge of sadness through her heart. Breaking the kiss, she sighed sadly as her fingers gently caressed the suture.

"Don't," he murmured, "Don't go there..."

Kissing him with renewed ardour, she locked her ankles behind his back, moaning softly as his hardness pressed firmly against her core. Sliding her hands down his chest and abs, they once again disappeared beneath the waistband of his boxers, wrapping themselves around him and stroking him gently from tip to base, squeezing him occasionally.

Breaking the kiss, he roughly plunged three fingers into her, growling when he found that she was already hot and wet. He curled his fingers inside her, stroking her sweet spot as he did, loving the way her face contorted with pleasure and desire. He leaned down and took a pebbled nipple in his mouth, sucking hard, grazing his teeth over her nipple, eliciting pleased moans and whimpers from her.

Wrangling all the concentration she could as he touched her so intimately, she stroked him harder, tightening her grip on his arousal, loving the way he ground out her name in the throes of passion.

She shut her eyes tightly, moaning unrestrainedly; keeping quiet would have required too much thought and, right now, she just wanted to feel the moment. The lustful noises she made reassured him and he spurred her on, thrusting his fingers into her more roughly.

She continued her efforts to make him feel human, stroking him harder, using every touch she'd learned would make him lose control.

Knowing he wanted to be inside her when he climaxed, he removed her hands from him and rolled them over so she was trapped beneath him. "I want you," he breathed, hastily removing his boxers.

"I want you too." She kissed him hard and, without missing a beat, he thrust into her, burying all of himself deeply into her.

The feel of her snug around him, her muscles tightening in time to his thrusts was exactly what he'd needed. He paused for a moment, needing to control himself to draw the moment out for as long as possible.

Breaking the kiss, he slowly withdrew, needing to hear her cry out as he pushed in again. His lips moved down her throat, leaving a trail of red marks in his passionate fervour.

Usually when they were together, it was tender and loving, but tonight wasn't one of those times. Tonight, it was rough and carnal; no thoughts about the marks he left on her skin or who might overhear their cries. Tonight, he left bruises and bite-marks, feeling a strange sense of pride in seeing the marks. Tonight, she cried out freely as he pounded into her and he encouraged her.

"Derek..." she moaned when he brushed against that very spot inside her that always caused her to shudder hard.

She arched her back and the unmistakable feel of her pebbled nipples crushing against his chest urged him on. He pounded into her harder, wanting to hear her loud, unrestrained moans. He was pretty sure half their neighbours could hear them and they were going to get a lot of complaints, but he couldn't care less about that right now.

Wanting to hear her scream his name again, he slid his hand between their sweat-slicked bodies and tucked his thumb firmly against her clit, stroking it in counterpoint to his powerful thrusts. "Come on, baby," he breathed, biting the sensitive spot where her neck and shoulders met, "Let me hear you scream..."

She didn't even try to hold back, letting the pleased noises bubble up freely. "God, Derek..." she purred as she thrust her hips up to meet his. She was surprised she had the ability to form words at all, her mind clouded by the feel of him roughly moving within her, his fingers working the sensitive bundle of nerves, him sharply nipping at her skin.

Her nails raked down his back as he drove her ever closer to the edge, the slight pain the perfect juxtaposition to the pleasure flooding through his limbs as her core pulsed hotly around him. Her desperate whimpers were like music to his ears, but he wanted more.

Unintentionally, his thrusts grew more forceful, pushing them up the bed. He knew from the way she pulsed so wonderfully around him, she was just one step away from falling off the edge. Keeping up with his thrusts and his fingers continuing to work her clit, he lowered his head, took a nipple in his mouth and bit down on it.

The slight and unexpected pain, combined with the overwhelming pleasure coursing through her veins, caused her to see stars. She all but screamed her pleasure while he continued his ministrations on her body, wanting her to fully enjoy her climax.

As she came down from her high, her ragged breathing matched his own, her erratic heartbeat keeping time with his. Moments like that, so perfectly in sync with each other were somehow simultaneously calming and exciting. He relished the closeness that couldn't be emulated in any other moment but those where he almost felt like their love for each other was something he could hold in the palm of his hand if he were only to reach out and grasp it.

Her eyes fluttered open and she began trailing kisses along his jaw, shifting her hips against his as he once again started moving inside her with renewed passion. Wanting more of him, she slid her leg higher up his body, resting it on the side of his chest. The change in angle meant that his length brushed across her clit every single time they moved. And with that change, he knew he wouldn't – couldn't – last long.

Capturing her lips in a frantic and desperate kiss, he set a demanding pace, pounding into her hard like a mindless animal. He knew they'd both be really sore tomorrow and he'd feel bad about hurting her, but right now, all he wanted was for them to forget that traumatic incident. Besides, he'd make it up to her in the morning.

Pushing those thoughts aside, he trailed kisses along her neck and jaw, licking the marks he'd left on her. Breathing hotly into her ear, he alternated between murmuring sweet nothings and expressing his need and desire for her.

Her senses were sent into overdrive; the feel of him moving roughly within her, rubbing her clit as he did so, the way his hands felt roaming her flushed skin, the smell of them – their unique scent and sweat combined – and his words and hot breath in her ear.

She knew she was close to reaching the peak again, but this time, she wanted him to come with her. For a few seconds, she lingered at the spot just below his ear, her lips ghosting over the sensitive skin, making him shudder. She lightly ran her tongue along the shell of his ear, whispering, "Come for me, baby. You've been holding out for too long..."

"God, I love you, Em..." he growled, sucking at her pulse point.

She was suddenly struck by the realization that, even at one of his lowest points, when she was desperately trying to make him feel better, he was more concerned with taking care of her needs. The thought only made her love him more; she rotated her hips in a way that she knew would send shocks of pleasure coursing through his body, determined to give him his release.

"Emily..." he groaned, hissing softly at the sensation, "I can't hold out if you keep doing that..."

"I don't want you to hold out," she whispered softly, her breath hot on his skin as she looked into his eyes. She brought a hand to his rest over his heart, feeling it pound against her palm. "I want you to come with me..."

From his ragged breaths and frantic thrusts, she knew he was close too. Rotating her hips again, she sent shivers down his spine a second time, bringing him closer to the edge.

He fought an internal battle to maintain control, convinced that once this was over, he would find that none of this was real. But, deciding that if this really was the last thing he was going to remember – real or not – he wanted it to be something worth remembering, he finally gave up on reigning himself in, turning himself over to the pleasure of the moment.

His brain wanted to shut off and let instinct take over, but he fought, struggling to remember every detail, the way she moved with him, the feel of her heat tight around him, her warm breath against his skin as she tenderly kissed him – if this was his last memory, he wanted it to be of just how much she loved him.

He was vaguely aware of her voice, her lips brushing against his as she pulled him in for another kiss. "So close, baby," she murmured, "Let it go..."

As he felt her starting to climax, he concentrated on letting go, wanting to come with her. He stopped thinking as he felt his entire body tighten with pent-up desire, close to letting go. She reached the peak first, crying out his name; he followed barely seconds after, spilling hotly insider her with a low, guttural moan.

For several moments, they simply laid in each other's arms, panting and gasping for air as they slowly recovered from their waves of pleasure. He settled back into reality as his heartbeat returned back to normal, along with his breathing. He heard her murmur in disappointment when he slid of out her, rolling onto her side of the bed.

"I love you," he whispered, pulling her close to him.

He lightly caressed her skin, ghosting his fingers over the angry red marks he'd left on her. "I'm sorry," he sighed. "Does it hurt?"

"You have nothing to be sorry for," she shook her head, "I'm okay." She caught the brief flash of disbelief in his eyes and sighed. "Derek, I wanted it. We both wanted it... Please don't feel bad. I'm okay, really. Very good, actually."

He bit his lip for a moment and nodded slowly, "Okay."

She smiled softly and nestled against his side. She draped an arm across his torso, resting her head on his toned chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. "I love you," she whispered, kissing his chest.

He listened to her quiet breathing, unsure if she had fallen asleep or not, but content to just hold her. He was desperately trying to fight falling asleep, not wanting to lose the feeling he had in the calm of the afterglow. If this was some creation of his unconscious mind, it was the most alive he'd felt in a long time...

..........

Emily awoke slowly, reluctantly, blinking to bring the world into focus and wondering why she felt so sore. It took her a moment to remember what they had done last night and she grinned; the aches in her muscles were definitely worth it. She laid still for several moments longer, quietly enjoying the rise and fall of his chest with the slow, steady rhythm of his breathing. She lifted her head, looking up to find Derek looking down at her.

She liked that they hadn't shifted as they slept. She liked that her body fit nicely against his with his arms tightly around her.

"Hey," she whispered quietly, almost as if she was afraid that by speaking a little louder she would completely ruin the calm and intimate setting.

"Hey," he smiled, kissing her softly. "Are you okay?"

"You need to stop doing that," she admonished playfully, "I'm fine. A little sore, but I'd rather have it than not." She smiled when that smug grin made her want to kiss him and kick him simultaneously appeared on his face. "What about you?"

"I'm alright," he smiled, "When I woke up this morning with you in my arms, I knew this was real. And that's all that matters, right?"

"Right."


End file.
